Death Match
by Alohomora Fantasy
Summary: Mare still remembers how Maven was, the noble and kind boy under the burdens of a prince. But the world as they knew it burned, and they were left with memories. However, a discovery in the Corros prison changes the game for everyone, especially Elara and Mare. Is Maven truly the fallen Prince? (Rating liable to change to T)
**A/N: Well, this has been a long time coming! Red Queen is an incredible book with great writing and characters. I fell in love with Maven until... Well, you know.**

 **I would like to start this off by saying quite clearly that this will be an AU revolving around the story idea that maybe Maven was not so guilty as we were led to believe. It will follow the storyline until about halfway through Glass Sword.**

 **With that being said, I'll just be posting this prologue to see the interest in this story.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Red Queen or any of its characters. It belongs to the great writer Victoria Aveyard, and affiliated companies.**

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Maven knocked gently on the grandly carved door that lead to his mother's chambers. A moment later, her sharp voice reached his ears.

"You may enter." Elara's firm, formal tone was not one she usually used with her son, so he knew she had not bothered to check who it was. Pausing to gather his thoughts, he slammed his mental shields over his most precious secrets. Opening the door and slipping inside, Maven settled a smile on his face despite his recent reserves around her, knowing it wouldn't fool her anyways.

"Mother." Elara turned from her large desk, snapping shut her journal swiftly. Her cold eyes warmed, and she stood gracefully, opening her arms to him.

"Maven." The smile on her face faded as he stood where he was, back almost flush with the door. "What's wrong, dear?" Even as the endearment slipped from her mouth, he felt the slight, foreign pressure of another enter his mind. Maven quickly pushed the vestiges of his anger with her to the back of his mind, and stepped forward to alleviate her concerns.

"Nothing, Mother, I-" her knowing look stopped him, and Maven sighed imperceptibly. She always knew when he was lying. "I won't be coy with you. I came to speak of your...plan."

A cruel smile lit her face. "You have thought more about it? I am glad, the last details are falling into place. The perfect opportunity has fallen into out laps, and now all you will have to do is earn that disgusting Red's trust-" a sneer lit her face, and Maven rushed to stop her passionate tirade before she could continue. He kept the anger out of his voice, not letting her know his support of the Reds. Mare appeared tolerable to him, at least it seemed that way at her welcoming feast.

"I don't like it, Mother. I won't do it." A hot surge of anxiousness ran through him. He rushed through the rebellious words, feeling more confident as his beliefs finally surfaced. But he still couldn't meet her eyes. "I don't care what you say, it's wrong. I wasn't born for the throne, it's not my place. I can do so much good where I am, by Cal's side. I don't need to be king to change things. And I certainly don't need to kill anyone." His skin heated up, begging to feel flames run up and down his arms and release the inferno boiling in his blood. Maven took a deep breath, quickly gaining control. Daring to look up at Elara, he was shocked. He had expected disappointment, anger even. But not the twisted smile that distorted her face.

"My son," she stepped towards him, placing an pale hand on his shoulder. "I know how intelligent you are, how quick with words, and how good you are. I know it's hard for you to understand, but this is the only way you can finally impress your father and show him your worth. He is blinded by Cal, but we both know you are better than the heir." Maven winced, his deepest hurts coming to light in her words. It was true he felt that way, but Maven wasn't about to stoop to betrayal and murder to get what he wanted. He would not give into temptation, even when the queen whispered into his mind what his life could be like.

Maven jerked away from his mother, shrugging off her hand as he moved towards the door. "Get out of my mind." He hissed. Immediately, he felt terrible for speaking to his mother that way, but when he turned towards her, Elara's face held anger.

"It never was actually a choice, Maven." She laughed cuttingly, and guilt welled in him as he saw the bit of hurt in her blue eyes. But she softened a bit as she sensed the guilt in his mind, and stepped towards him again. "It's for the best, son. You can finally be the king and lead as you were meant to do." Her long fingers stretched out to caress his face, and again he jerked away from her, her words intensifying the heat coursing through his veins.

"Stop!" He snapped, as the awful feeling of anger roiled in his stomach. "This isn't what I want, it's what you want. In the end I'll just be your puppet, a figure head, and you'll be the one truly ruling." He subdued a growl rising in his throat, spinning towards the door. His hand rested on the cool knob, but it glowed under his hot touch and he quickly removed it. Maven glanced over his shoulder to see Elara's face in an impassive mask.

"Maven, I know you will see reason eventually." Her voice was alarmingly soft, but her face and eyes revealed nothing. This time, the teen let the animalistic noise pass through his lips, knowing his next words would probably ruin his relationship with the only person who he thought believed in him.

"You're mad. Leave me out of your plans, and if you hurt anyone, if I hear a whisper," he spat the word like it was dirty, hating his powers at the moment, "if you so much as touch Cal, I will reveal you to everyone. And it won't only be your reputation that burns."

Maven couldn't stand being in the room with her a moment longer, and ripped the door open, bursting out into the quiet corridor. The Sentinels remained stoic and silent, shutting the door behind him as he paused to collect himself. He needed to be more clever than ever before, as his enemies were also in his own family now. His face fell into the familiar mask of cool indifference, his blue eyes uninterested and his outfit and posture impeccable.

Hopefully Mothe- Elara would leave her plan behind, just be content with her son's wishes and understand she was playing too terrible a game to possibly win. Shaking his head minutely, Maven strode down the hall and a flight of stairs to his room.

He sighed, slumping into a leather sitting chair as the door clicked shut behind him. His head dropped into his hands, and he buried his fingers in his black curls, suppressing the urge to scream his frustrations. Out of range of Elara, his mental shields dropped slightly. But never fully, she couldn't figure out what her dearest son had been hiding.

It scared him still, even after hiding the secret his whole life. No one ever suspected the forgotten prince to be more than they thought. He had his fiery powers, which, though not as strong as his brother, were admirable in and of themselves. So no one considered the idea that he had been granted the rarity to have received both his father and his mother's powers. Maven was a whisper, and he had trained himself to use it in the best ways he could. Namely, mental shields against his constantly prying mother.

He hated how overlooked he was and how no one considered his ideas, opinions, or feelings. But he loved the people of Norta, and he loved his brother even with all his vices. And if there was nothing more Maven could trust, he could trust his own morals.

A distant sound, perhaps a door slamming, jarred Maven from his brooding thoughts. Glancing up at the large picture window dominating the east wall, the boy realized how late it was. He stood, twisting his neck to relieve an uncomfortable crick, and then proceeded to change into night clothes. Exhaustion lay over the blue eyed boy like a heavy blanket, and he settled quickly into bed and restless dreams.

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The first thing his groggy senses registered was the fact that his back was uncomfortably cold. Automatically, he reached for the heat that always thrummed in his blood, but felt nothing. His brain swam with confusion, and Maven forced his eyes opening, gasping as he bolted upright. He knew this feeling, remembered it from when he was a little boy and his family had taken a tour of the Bowl of Bones. The Silent Stone pressed down on his abilities, making them nonexistent, even as he reached for them to protect himself in the unfamiliar surroundings.

The room was unmarred white, with no windows and doors; certainly not his bedroom. Maven was sitting on a barren metal table, with no shirt on, and next to him sat a table filled with medical instruments and bags of fluid. His usually sharp eyes blurrily followed a wire down from it's hanging bag to where it dripped into one of his veins. That would explain the sluggish thought process and movements. With a furtive glance around the room, he gripped the tube and ripped it out of his vein, pressing two fingers to the small hole to staunch any blood that might come out

"Ah, so you're awake." Maven's neck gave a sharp crack as he turned to examine the newcomer. A wall slid back into place silently, undoubtably controlled by a Telky. But what really drew his attention was the man standing in front of him, his colorless appearance causing him to blend in with the wall.

"Lord Arven." Maven bowed his head, warily keeping his eyes on the Silencer all the while. Perhaps that was the oppressive weight bearing down on his abilities, but Rane Arven had never used his powers on the prince.

"You're going to regret that in a moment." Arven gestured with one translucent looking hand to where Maven was still pressing into the hole in his skin. Surprised, the boy raised his brows subtly at the lack of decorum the Head of House showed. But Arven said no more, and watched him with intense eyes. Maven decided the best course was silence, at least with someone so powerful as Arven.

Slowly, more feeling returned to his body, and Maven's sight sharpened to its usual level as the fog laying over his mind cleared. He had never seen a room like this in the Hall, and had certainly never been drugged. Skin healers always made sure any injuries the Silvers had were quickly taken care of. But as the effects of the drugs were quickly drained away, he became aware of an aching sensation in his side. Glancing down, his pale fingers flew to the freshly stitched cut just below his ribs.

"What?" The question came out breathlessly as he carefully prodded the small lump on his side. It was hard as stone, and the skin around it was especially white. "Lord Arven, where are we?" Maven asked, an edge to his tone. The Silencer pursued his lips, and at that moment, the wall again slid away, and a familiar figure stepped into the room.

"Mother, thank goodness." He sighed in relief; despite his dispute with Elara, he knew she loved him enough to keep him from harm. "Whe-" Maven's speech cut off abruptly, and he tried to open his mouth, but his body would not obey his brain's command. Desperately he tried to move his fingers, crease his eyes brows, swing his legs over the bed, do something. The only thing he could move was his eyes, and he locked them onto his mother's orbs, trying to speak silently to her. But she looked away, giving Arven a pleased nod.

"It works perfectly, thank you Lord Arven." The pale man nodded, slipping out of the room as the wall slid into place. When Elara turned back to him, Maven realized that the heavy sensation in his mind wasn't a sensation at all. He wanted to scream at her, get her out of his head, but even if he could control the whisper right now, the prince knew he could not reveal his power. Instead, he checked his mental shields, which were thankfully still up, and leveled an ice filled glare in her direction.

"Maven, dear," she tsked, unable to hide the slight smile on her face, "don't look at your mother like that." His muscles in his face twitched, stretching into a smile. Maven made a strangled noise in his throat in protest, his mind swimming with thoughts of confusion and betrayal, even as his memories of a Cal flicked before him like the programs on the television screens.

"That's better." Her own face mirrored his forced bright expression, and she perched on the bed where he was still sitting, motionless. Her hand ghosted over the slight raise on his side, causing goose bumps to spread across his skin. "Don't be worried about that. I put our most skilled healer on the job, he easily put it in." Elara flipped through his mind, searching his thoughts for what he guessed about the lump. "You guessed well. It's a Silent Stone, just a small piece. But it's been modified, so I can control it at will. Something about reactions to certain things in your brain."

She waved her hand flippantly, and Maven knew she didn't care how it worked, just that she was attempting to justify herself to him. Boiling rage caused him to grow uncomfortably hot, even with the fire quenched. Her smile dimmed a bit at his roiling thoughts, and she sighed.

"Maven, this will help you see how good my plan is, how strong you can rise. But we have to play everything right. So I can use this to help make sure everything goes smoothly. That girl will be the key." Elara stood, all teasing gone as she began to pace, more the picture of a plotting wife than a demure queen. A thrill of anger spiraled through Maven at the mention of Mare, causing his silver blood to stain his cheeks white. "We need someone to destroy Calore's reputation. I was thinking the Scarlet Guard. You would have to figure out how to enter their ranks; I suspect the little Red has something to do with them." Maven squeezed his eyes shut, the only form of protest he could muster against the cloistering presence of the stone.

Suddenly, fire rushed back into his veins. His bracelet clicked and flames burst into his hand. His blue eyes snapped open, and Elara smiled at him as she retreated from his mind.

"Look at you. I'm so proud, you will make a wonderful King." Maven tried not think of the pleasure the words and her pride gave him, and instead focused on the plan that was already in motion. She was lying, she had always been lying.

"This isn't right. The end doesn't justify the means. And besides, what would we do with Father and Cal?" Elara's distaste showed on her face, in the curl of her painted lips and her furrowed, perfectly manicured brows.

"You'll see when the time comes. You really don't have to worry about anything except Mare." A slow realization dawned on Maven, and he wanted to kick himself for not seeing it sooner.

"You have had this planned for a long time, haven't you? And you were just waiting for the right opportunity." The Queen didn't even have to nod at her son for him to know the answer. In light of her thorough scheme, Maven felt the first vestiges of fear. But it wasn't for himself, it was for Cal, his brother who would be the king this country needed. It was for Father, who, despite everything, just wanted the best for both his people and his sons. And Mare, who he had only known for a few days. He had wanted to hate her, and at his first look at her, he held disgust for the dirty red girl. But it didn't take him more than an hour to remember Thomas, and all his other red friends in the trenches. They were people, and Mare was too. She was a fiery, strong person who Maven already was starting to admire.

"Someone will notice that scarring." His mother's words shattered his train of thought, and he stiffened as the door slid open once again. No one other than Sara Skonos entered the room, her head down and steps small. At first, anger at her filled him; but, then, if his mother could do this to him to get what she wanted, she certainly could have killed the Singer Queen. Maybe Sara didn't deserve the hate, but Elara seemed pleased by what his reaction. A thought hit Maven hard, and he didn't allow any hint of emotion to show on his face.

As the healer erased any signs of Maven's new enslavement, a plan formulated in the boy's mind. Elara wanted him to be the traitor, she wanted him to show love and trust, then hard, bitter anger to get "his way" and break his family, He would be, but not in the way she thought. Maven would be the double betrayer, crisscrossing and confusing everyone. The prince knew he was smart, and tactical, but this wasn't a game. After some silence, Maven looked up and offered a tentative smile. This was a death match, and only one could be the winner.

"I think I'm starting to see what you mean, Mother."

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 **A/N: I do hope you all like this! More about Maven's powers will be explained in any future chapters. I plan on time skipping into Glass Sword, which will jump into Mare's POV with flashbacks. I do apologize for any mistakes in here, as they are all my own. Unfortunately, I have yet to really attempt to understand the Beta process, despite being here for years.**

 **Anyways, reviews would be lovely, I'm not sure about how this will be received.**


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